Love is in the Hands of Fate
by fridgemagnet
Summary: how deidara met sasori, sweet fluffy nonsense - Sasori's POV


Just so you know the characters in this fanfic are Deidara and Sasori

Disclaimer - I do not own the characters in this

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We first met or should I say, I first bumped into him, (literally), when I was walking by the train station. When I bumped into him I dropped all of my presents for my family. Instead or cursing like any other person would have done, he just bent down and started picking up my stuff, apologizing. I joined him and reached for a notebook. Unfortunately he had reached for the same thing and our hands collided as we had earlier. I felt an unfamiliar feeling inside of me, I felt rather odd and unusual.

He looked up at me as I looked down upon him. He was staring into my eyes with a peculiar expression on his face. I tapped him on his shoulder and accidently touched his long, very long blonde hair. Time froze as I savoured the moment and sensation.

He didn't seem to notice, but I looked at him differently, but I smiled at him and started saying things such as, I'll take you home, it's gonna get dark quite quickly. The sun was setting and a mixture from yellow to pink painted the sky, from horizon to horizon. After what seemed like eternity he nodded and pointed in a direction. I just assumed that was the direction his house lay; so we went off into the horizon.

It wasn't long till we were at his street; I scribbled my phone number on a piece of paper which I had torn from my notebook. He took the paper and I left, walking off from where I had come. There was a slight pain close to my heart; I wanted to see him again, but how?

Wait a minute, what is wrong with me? I'm an average guy, I need to get home and wrap these presents, not think about some silly little blonde that I just happened to bump into. I thought deeply, scrunching up my nose, what had I forgotten, the presents. I spun around 180 degrees and blasted down the streets to the blonde's house.

The door bell was broken, I rapped on the door so hard that my knuckles began to hurt. I heard distant shuffling behind the door, and finally it opened. The blonde rushed behind the door after seeing me, only his head poked around it. "I believe I left my bags outside your house, do you have them?" I asked, trying not to laugh at the sight of his face.

The blonde nodded and brought his arm from behind the door, sagging beneath the weight of my shopping spree. "Thanks," I took the bags from his grip, nodded in appreciation and made my way out on to the path. I heard the door click shut; satisfied with myself I walked on back home.

The next day I woke up with a plan forming in my mind, I would go to the train station the same place and time I had seen him the day before, there was a slight possibility that I would meet the blonde. After the happenings of last night, it felt so strange not to see him once more, but maybe this time, with his clothes on.

I was at the train station, just around the corner where I had met the blonde yesterday. I peeked around the corner and sure enough the blonde was there, admiring what looked like his shoes. Sweat began to form on the back of my neck, making my hair prickle. Suddenly he tied back his hair, and I remembered the sensation after touching it, the disturbing feeling vanished. I plucked up my courage and walked around the corner. I tapped him on the shoulder, he looked up as if he was going to yell at me, but once he realised it was me his mouth shut.

"Hey," I spoke; it was amazing being able to say that, it felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off my chest. He blushed the tiniest little bit. My face was begging to flush a brilliant scarlet, but only a light pink dotted my cheeks.

"Hey," he replied, he sounded so cute; the eye that wasn't covered in blonde hair sparkled. What am I thinking? It's just hair, but it looks so sweet shadowing his face like that.

"Wanna go somewhere?" I asked, feeling more confident. He nodded and his cheeks turned a darker shade of pink. I took his hand and enclosed it in mine; I led him onto a train and paid for the tickets. We sat opposite each other and I couldn't keep my eyes off him.

The train slowed to a stop and we got off, left the station, hand in hand, and found a little path. The path was deserted and was lit up by lamp posts either side of the path. The wind blew and cherry blossom petals scattered everywhere, including into the blondes hair. He started to pick them out of his hair, but I pulled his hand down and started stroking his hair. "They compliment the colour of your cheeks." At this comment he blushed a deep crimson, "especially when you blush," I chuckled as he blushed even harder.

"The snow makes your hair stand out, but I like it that way," he whispered, I could just hear him, and it made my heart feel a slight pang. I looked up to see a small bunch of mistletoe above our heads. "Bad to break tradition," I shrugged, pulled his head up to mine and kissed him.

When I think back to that moment it always makes me feel that, if I had not bumped into him on that fateful day, then none of this would have happened. Seems like love was in the hands of fate.


End file.
